


i can only think of one way to make things feel real again

by disgracefics



Category: Naruto
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Delusions, Dissociation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 04:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21469993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgracefics/pseuds/disgracefics
Summary: based on author's own past delusions and experiences with derealisation/depersonalisation and the like.drabble.
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	i can only think of one way to make things feel real again

**Author's Note:**

> based on author's own past delusions and experiences with derealisation/depersonalisation and the like.  
drabble.

the front door opens with a loud creak, and yet sasuke doesn’t move, knife stuck in his hands like he’s holding onto something precious, turned in towards his belly. he watches, with an immense calm washed over him, the distance between his stomach and the tip of the kitchen knife, stagnant, not getting smaller, and he still /doesn’t move/ when naruto’s sing-song /hello/ turns into a harsh “sasuke, what the fuck are you doing?”

  
his heavy, fast-paced footsteps move shatteringly over the kitchen tiles, right up behind his back, and for a split second, sasuke has the urge to turn around and drive the knife in his hands into naruto instead (in self-defence, he tells himself.)

  
there is something unnatural and practiced in the way he allows naruto, with a harsh flinch, to wrestle the sharp object from his hand. it rustles in the sink among the dirty dishes when naruto throws it in there. his boyfriend’s hands are freezing when he braces them on his shoulders and turns him around – autumn came in chilly and strong this year, and the shitty thrifted coat isn’t warm enough to fend it off, and yet naruto has never complained one time. sasuke respects that.

  
“what the fuck are you... i can’t believe you,” the usually cheery tone has turned bitter and desperate. the fingers on his shoulder bite tighter into the flesh of his arms. there are more words being thrown at him and he’s suddenly being shaken, which he slowly processes he doesn’t like.

  
“get your hands off of me.” sasuke is pleased with how measured his words are as he speaks, this is what he aims for, to be stoic and cold and show everyone he’s doing good because he isn’t flipping his shit.

  
naruto, however, isn’t calm. his eyes burn wild with something indecipherable, a strange rage that sasuke can’t place. what’s he so angry about? sasuke wasn’t doing anything. “why do i have to come home after a nine hour shift to find you like that, you-“

  
“i said, get your hands off of me,” he repeats, slowly, over-articulating every syllable to get it through naruto’s skull that his fingernails are sharp and they’re digging through the thin fabric of his sleeves. the rage dies down and naruto’s eyes soften into a different desperation, a helpless, destitute frown while his hands slowly fall to his sides. it’s with great theatrics that he moves back three paces, head now turned from sasuke as if in shame. he then starts to fight his shitty thrifted coat off himself and kicks his worn shoes towards the door where they land in a neat pair. sasuke, unable to escape to another room in the small studio they rent, opts to lean against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. he feels it rise and fall with his measured breaths and wonders if he’s even controlling these breaths.

  
“please tell me just what you were trying to do.” naruto’s quieted down, finally, and sasuke watches the way he shatters with a removed kind of calm, as if he is distant from the situation and it doesn’t quite matter. the blond wipes at his eye with the back of his hand as he grabs a shirt from a dresser and sasuke doesn’t feel anything, no shame or hurt that he made the person he loves most cry.

  
it’s not real, it doesn’t matter. he doesn’t respond.

  
“what am i supposed to do with you, bring you in so they can put you on suicide watch?” sasuke watches the feet under him and tries to remember who they belong to. “i bet you didn’t take your goddamn meds today, sasuke –“ he stops listening then, too caught up in trying to remember /something/. he was supposed to remember something, no?

  
what had he been doing again?


End file.
